


two men in new tuxedos

by vulpesvortex



Category: Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:37:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1282861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulpesvortex/pseuds/vulpesvortex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benji suits up for an undercover gig as a dotcom millionaire. Brandt didn't expect to enjoy it <i>this much</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	two men in new tuxedos

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinypi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinypi/gifts).



> This fic is named after the Wolf Parade song, despite the fact no one in it is actually wearing a tuxedo, let alone a new one. 
> 
> Now with [fanart](http://foxesonstilts.tumblr.com/post/101951288687/today-is-apparently-a-benji-brandt-day-so-heres-a)!

The Rayle Tech anniversary party was a revelation for Brandt in more ways than one. He hadn't thought he'd ever attend an office party in this part of NY with decent catering, or that people still used lava lamps as actual party decorations. The main one, though, was Benji showing up for his undercover gig looking like a million bucks, confident in a tailored gray jacket, charcoal dress shirt and bright red trousers. It wasn't just that the clothes were obviously well-made and fit him like a glove, but there was so much personality in them - he was wearing freaking chucks under his suit - a certain playfulness that was somehow very Benji.  
  
Brandt would never have gone for bright red anything, let alone pants, but Benji carried it off like he'd never consider wearing anything less daring. It looked good. Really worryingly good, and Brandt felt his gut heat as he followed Benji around the party, listening in to his small-talk through the earbuds.  
  
Unconventional style choices aside, Brandt could see Benji's outfit was well-picked. Their mark, like most of the main players at the party, was a young software designer catapulted into wealth and fame through an internet start up, now worth several million dollars. In a group of former social outcasts and irreverent net reformers, Benji, with his cheeky suit and swift technobabble, fit right in.  
  
That, of course, had been the entire point of putting Benji on point this mission.  
  
It was just, Brandt wasn't expecting to be appreciating it _this much_.  
  
Normally, when Benji wore suits on the job, they were pale and unobtrusive, often ill-fitting and a bit boring. Nothing like the sleekly tailored suits Ethan preferred, or the high-end off-the-rack ones he himself wore, a leftover from his time as an analyst. Brandt had always preferred seeing Benji in his behind-the-scenes clothes - as Will had termed them - when he got to hide in that week's bolthole with an army of computers and wear whatever he liked. Then, Brandt would find him huddled in his chair in jeans and cardigans, the occasional jumper, even an ancient Star Wars shirt that he suspected actually dated back to Benji's college days. He'd never given it much thought before beyond enjoying the comfortable expressiveness of Benji's casual dress. This new evidence of Benji's ability to suit up with similar flair meant Brandt would have to ask him about the bland suits sometime. Did Benji think it was his role as the tech guy to dress like that? Did he think the team would think his choices immature or stupid? That they would laugh at him?  
  
He tried to put it out of his mind; he was on the clock, this sartorial mystery could wait. They moved separately around the party for about another hour, idly schmoozing with the it crowd and waiting for their mark to show. Ethan stayed off to the sides, blending in under the guise of being hired security. Jane was outside, keeping an eye on arrivals and departures to and from the party.  
  
The mood of the crowd was relaxed, no sign of anything underhanded or dangerous going on. There was one guy at the bar who'd put away half a bottle of cognac since they'd gotten there, but Brandt pegged his problem as personal rather than international based on his face like a storm cloud and the way he kept fiddling with his phone. Like he was thinking about making a call, but wasn't yet drunk enough to swallow his pride. Brandt dismissed him.  
  
"Any sign of her yet?" Brandt asked over the comms.  
  
"I got nothing here," Jane said.  
  
"If I can get close to one of her associates I can clone their phone, see if they've heard anything," Benji offered.  
  
"Her assistant's over in the north corner," Brandt said. He'd kept track of the familiar faces from the mission file as he'd gone around the party, and the assistant was was definitely the way to go, statistics-wise.  
  
"Perfect," Benji said decisively. Brandt could see him start to move through the party crowd, crossing the floor to the young woman in gray and blue. "I'll initiate contact, but I'll need someone to distract her while I access her phone."  
  
"On it."  
  
Brandt watched Benji and the girl jump into animated conversation after a short fumbling introduction, lingering for a few moments before going over to the bar to order drinks and moving towards them.  
  
"Hey babe," he said, hip-checking Benji playfully in the side. He pressed a quick peck onto Benji's cheek as he passed him his tumbler of scotch, unable to beat down a grin when he saw the other man's ears turn red. "On the rocks, just like you asked."  
  
He offered the girl his hand with what he hoped had successfully turned into a pleasant smile. "Hi, I'm William. Whatever he's told you he's working on, it was my idea, really."  
  
"That's a lie!" Benji laughed, poking him in the stomach, a little harsher than the situation demanded.  
  
"Hush, you. I'm trying to impress this young lady here."  
  
Benji rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, throwing his hands up. "Eloise, meet my better half. Lesser half?" He looked up at Will, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "My half. For better or worse."  
  
Eloise shook his hand easily, darting an amused look between the two of them. "You're sweet together," she said, half-hiding a gentle smile behind a sip from her martini glass.  
  
Brandt engaged her in conversation while Benji worked his phone, leaning comfortably into the arm Will put around his back and occasionally adding a snappy comment to their conversation. Brandt was making up some extravagant story about how they'd met when Benji flipped his phone shut with a flourish and put it away. "There, that's done. Sorry about that, some kind of trouble back at the office. You never can leave anyone alone, can you?"  
  
"Speaking of alone..." Brandt turned further into Benji, whispering loud enough for Eloise to hear. He gave her a conspiratorial wink and a saucy "please excuse us," and marched Benji out of there.  
  
She let out a little bark of scandalized laughter. "You're a menace, William Bale!" she called after them.  
  
"You really are," Benji said, when they were out of earshot. "Any luck with the phone data, Jane?"  
  
"Looks like there was some kind of mix-up with the car service. ETA fifteen minutes. Plus one will be the girlfriend."  
  
"Okey-doke. Let us know if you find anything else."  
  
"Will do," Jane promised.  
  
"Perfect," Brandt said under his breath, no longer paying attention. He'd spotted a service door. After a quick scan of the room over his shoulder for discretion's sake, he tugged Benji through one of the doors leading to the back of the bar, towards supply closets and service elevators. He tapped his earpiece twice until a tinny electrical voice said 'outgoing signal disabled'.  
  
Benji's eyes widened, then went half-lidded as he mimicked the gesture. "Here, seriously?" Benji's tone was mocking, but his smile was genuine and he let Brandt pull him along easily, further down the corridor.  
  
"Shut up," Will shot back without malice. Abruptly, he turned, pressed Benji against the wall of the hallway and kissed him, his hands groping eagerly under Benji's jacket. He clutched the familiar slim waist, only barely resisting the urge to pull Benji's shirt out of the back of his pants so he could touch skin, instead settling for stroking up and down Benji's back in broad strokes.  
  
"God, you're-" Brandt moaned against Benji's jaw with a scrape of teeth, "the way you look right now..."  
  
"You're telling me! Your suit has a vest!" Benji hissed back between kisses. "I've barely been able to stop staring at you all night. I wanna rip it off, which is weird I guess since it looks so fucking good, but I wanna tear the stupid thing right off you..."  
  
Brandt dove back in for another deep kiss, and couldn't help groaning in deepening arousal when Benji used the hand wrapped tight in Brandt's jacket collar to pull him even closer, to press their mouths together even tighter. Brandt slid his hands down until he could grip Benji's backside firmly, use his hold to pull Benji up against his own front. They moaned in shared arousal when their half-formed erections rubbed together, their lips breaking apart to pant, faces pressed cheek to cheek.  
  
"I wanna blow you," Brandt said hotly. His hands wandered, stroked, squeezed. "I wanna slide to my knees right here in this hallway and blow you."  
  
"We should-. We can't-" Benji's hips rolled against him, seemingly unintentionally. " _Will_."  
  
"I know, I know," Will said, pressing slow kisses into Benji's pale neck. He raised his hands to rest more neutrally on Benji's waist, more like an embrace than a grope, and nuzzled his way up to Benji's ear. "Come home with me after," he whispered, low, "I know we can't do anything here but come home with me after it's finished. Stay. We'll have all night."  
  
"What's left of it," Benji said, smile evident in his voice. "Ha," Benji gasped when Brandt nipped his jawline with sharp teeth.  
  
"Benji," Brandt admonished. He felt his arms tighten briefly around Benji's ribs, a plea.  
  
Benji drew him in for another heated kiss, pushing his tongue demandingly past Brandt's lips, hands a firm pressure on the back of his neck. When the kiss slowed down, he drew back far enough to look Will in the eye. "Yeah, I'll come. I'll stay."  
  
They stayed like that for a moment longer, suspended on the rush of their arousal and their stolen moment, and then disentangled reluctantly. Their hands kept wandering back to fix each other's ties and shirts, flimsy excuses for touch they couldn't resist.  
  
"I guess we should go back to fighting crime now," Benji said, not stepping away. Then again, he was still being pressed up against the wall, boxed in by Will's body, so it wasn't really a failure of willpower on his part. Benji raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I guess we should," Brandt conceded, and grudgingly stepped away.  
  
  
****  
  
  
Later, in the privacy of Brandt's apartment, when dawn was trying to creep past the window blinds, Benji trapped him against his own front door with a burning hot kiss that went straight down to his toes. "So I guess this look sort of does it for you, huh?" he teased.  
  
Will groaned, embarrassed and admittedly more than a little turned on by Benji's confident demeanor carrying over from the mission into the bedroom (so to speak). "You've got no idea."  
  
"Mmmmm," Benji hummed, nosing at one of his sideburns. Will could feel him smile against his cheek. "I think we burned through most of  the night, but what is your position on morning sex, then sleep, then pancakes?"  
  
"I think my position is facedown on the bed with you on top of me."  
  
Benji bit him, failing to stiffle a giggle. "That's good, that works for me."


End file.
